Fix Him
by mercurial2010
Summary: When Brendan returns from Ireland after Lindsey's murder, Ste knows that he needs someone, and he knows who that person should be. But maybe Brendan will want something he's not quite expecting sexy, fluffy and a little angsty .
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Four chapters long, each chapter is a little M (though not as M as my other Stendan fic).

Set just after Cheryl leaves Brendan post Lindsey's murder, think waking up with baseball bat ;).

Thanks so much for all the loveliness for my other fic, you guys are awesome :D Please let me know what you think of this.

Chapter One:

The moment the door is opened Ste's breath is taken into the disconsolate air. Brendan looks a shadow of his former self, his hair dishevelled; the faint lines of that protruding beard are prominent against his bleached skin. His eyes are darker than black, a richer ebony than Ste had ever seen. Ste feels his chest ache. Brendan is broken.

"What are you doing here Steven?"

Ste exhales quickly, even Brendan's voice sounds fragile. But if he is damaged, it is his eternal duty to fix him. Instantly he knows what the man needs, and it's answered by a long held tension somewhere deep inside him.

"Can I come in?"

Brendan watches as Ste's lips press together. The boy is nervous but determined and Brendan feels his breath tug. His shifting body impulsively creates Ste's space beside him.

"What are you doing here?" The second time the question is asked it's softer, eased by them.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright, Y'know after Cheryl-"

"I'm fine." Brendan bites instantly frustrated.

"Sure you are!" Ste mocks and Brendan's anger is taken into a smile as the boy barely pretends to listen to the lie.

"Where's Joel?"

"With Theresa."

"So you're here by yourself?"

Ste asks the question because he needs to know that somebody is looking out for Brendan, somebody that the man trusts to let into his life, if there was anybody like that! But he can't break away from the sight of that crooked smile spreading across those lips.

"Would you like me to be?"

Ste can't help a mirroring smile on his own lips. Brendan could be at the darkest of days and still find the energy for flirtation.

"Brendan." The exasperated breath doesn't feel real, even to Ste.

Brendan's palm presses the door closed behind Ste. Ste's fingers bite into the palm of his hand, his knuckles furl, just in case. But he doesn't make an effort to move away; a fact that isn't missed by either man, as their bodies slot together like jigsaw pieces.

"Why are you so interested?"

"I'm worried about ya."

Bodies moving on instinct, they stand toe to toe against the door.

"We've had this conversation already Steven."

"I know…I don't think it was finished though."

Brendan shifts slowly, ever so slowly, closer to the boy.

"What more would you have said?"

Ste sighs, "that I want to help."

"You said that then."

Ste's jaw tightens as Brendan's power encroaches, enveloping like darkness. It's scary, like he's standing perilously close to the edge of a dangerous cliff. But no cell resists it, he longs for it, has hungered for it for weeks. Anyway, _this_ is the only way he can make it all seem better, so then he has no choice.

"Anything else?" Brendan asks, his voice growing low.

"Is there anything you would have said?"

"What would you have liked me to say?" Brendan plays.

Ste sighs, the pattern of their questions proving that it's all just a game to Brendan and they both know who the winner will be. Ste might have had the upper hand in one round, but he is always going to give it all away to the Irishman.

Brendan mistakes the momentary flinch in Ste's smile. The slight movement is all he needs to remind him of the last month, of Ste's actions, and that bloody letter. Brendan backs away from the boy, knowing that he can't take an inch of rejection, not right now, not from Ste.

"Why are you really here Steven?"

Brendan's absence shivers cold throughout Ste. He speaks quickly, with words he's practised in dreams this last week.

"The way I see it, you need help just as much as the rest of them, you just can't ask for it. So here I am, offering it."

The words wrap around Brendan's heart like poison, causing his body to shift around to face Ste. His jaw tenses as he feels that all-consuming loss of control that lingers around the boy, God how he craves it.

"What exactly are you offering?" He asks slowly.

It's the look in the boy's eyes that pulls him closer. Like a magnet to an inevitable and certain force.

"Steven?" Ste trembles as Brendan's tongue caresses his name with Irish tones.

As Ste whispers, "anything," they both know he means everything.

Brendan steps closer and Ste embraces the passion, the need to cling to every moment. Brendan's eyes fixate on that mouth that has promised so much. His senses latch onto every little sign of Steven; just so he can make everything else feel like it doesn't matter. Just so he can feel like he doesn't have to be responsible for everything. Just so he can get a moments peace from the drums inside his head – protection, bang, failure, bang, revenge, bang, hatred, bang, fear, bang bang bang.

As Ste speaks steadily, slowly each word reverberates through the older man.

"Whatever. You. Need."

At first they stand paused in silence. Lust moves slowly across absence. Ste can feel each breath the man makes, each exhale brushing his lips. He dissolves in the heat coursing from Brendan's firm body, travelling the whispers distance between them, and rushing through him.

The kiss starts slowly, flames licking around them, tasting, tempting. Just a lip's movement against a lip. A prick of moustache, a parting of a mouth, a trap of a breath. And then a tongue meets another, a slow flicker. It's just a taste. A flavour of whisky, of sugar, of them. Until they are truly on fire. It's Brendan's moan that does it. He doesn't mean to let it go, never wanting to show just how much the boy means, but it's pulled by an artful tongue that knows him too well.

Ste latches onto Brendan's moan like the best treat he's ever been given. Like always, instantaneously desperately greedy. He grabs at Brendan's belt, pulling them closer together. His hands sliding over that perfect arse. Lost in them.

Brendan grips at Ste's shirt. Freed in the passion of them his hands work fast - his movements almost simultaneous as he pulls the hem from his belt and undoes the bottom buttons. He presses against the boy, needing. He groans as he feels how hard Ste is, already, his desire for him flagrant. On impulse, Ste's stance widens and instantly Brendan's between his thighs. Causing that mind shattering friction. Another moan, though neither man knows where it comes from. It's just too good to be back here.

Ste's body moves supply around the older man. Brendan can feel every ripple of each touch, as Ste's muscles tighten and flex, and he writhes against the door. This is all Brendan's wanted, dreamed of, craved, for so long. To hide his smile, he pulls Ste's bottom lip between his teeth. Ste is putty in his hands, giving him whatever he wants because he knows it's good.

Brendan's nails dig into the boy's hips, practically lifting him up. Then one hand pins him against the door, as the other works the buttons on his work shirt. But Brendan's movements fumble as his mind dominated by their passion. Then Ste grabs each lapel. He bursts the shirt apart as the buttons pop into Brendan's living room. Brendan lifts his head away, taking in the grin on the boy's face, evidently proud of the licentious action, palpably lost from just one kiss.

Brendan's gaze shifts, drinks in every inch of Ste's thudding chest, because he is starved for him. God he's beautiful. The slight muscles beneath the surface of gorgeously tanned skin. He can practically taste the salt of his skin after hours of passion, their memories always within his reach. When their gaze clashes together Brendan presses a hand against Ste's lower abdomen. Running up against the flesh that's struggling for breath; nails scratch a hardened nipple. Ste's eyelids flutter shut, and he lets his moan come loud and hard, knowing exactly the way Brendan likes it. He needs to give the man everything he could want; he needs to be the only one he is thinking about, even for a stolen moment of time. Brendan feels lust pool hard in his core, and moves quickly for the next kiss.

It's heaven, blissful poison, until one word shatters between them.

"No."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: OK so I wrote this a while ago, and so the characterisation is slightly off (particularly Brendan's – he's a complicated fellow isn't he?!) Hopefully it's not too bad to mean you stop enjoying it, thank you for all the responses for the last chapter. Also mentioning's of Walker in this so cast your mind back to before Later, all the way back to Lyndsey's death and it might make a little sense (hopefully)._

_This chapter is M for speech._

_Let me know what you think (sorry about the break!)_

"No."

At first, Brendan isn't sure who spoke it. His voice sounding strange, his head not registering the request to speak. But Ste's eyes crash open as he hears Brendan's demand.

It takes a few deep breaths for Brendan to be able to think, to encode his order. It was impulsive, but it is right isn't it? He craves the meaningless, mindless animal act, yes. He needs the oblivion of not having to think about grief and guilt. He wants this. But he wants the boy more. Just before the second kiss, he caught a shine in Ste's eyes and he knew he was wrong. Ste wasn't giving him this because he knew it was good, he was giving him this because he wanted to help. And that Brendan couldn't stand.

Brendan has other people for meaningless sex. He could walk to the club now, trap Walker in the office and fill his mind with orgasmic nothingness. But Ste is always going to be more. The climax won't just be about reaching oblivion, it would be about them. And that wasn't what Ste was offering.

"No." Brendan repeats, his body moving away although his mouth stays.

"Bren-"

"No. Not like this, not about this." He talks against Ste's cheek as he rips himself away.

The distance between their bodies chills instantly. Brendan turns his back as he craves their heat more than anything else.

"What do you think this-" Ste's words come hesitantly.

"No."

Silenced, Ste looks down at the ripped deli shirt, the evidence of his stupidity, knowing that the kiss had meant just too much. Brendan had wanted something simple, a moment to forget, and that was what Ste had wanted to offer. But in that kiss he had tasted it, the fervent complexity of them, his unrelenting desire for the older man, and he'd acted on it. He'd ripped his shirt to expose himself, to be taken by Brendan again. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed it, the sense that he could just feel and not think - that they could move on instinct. But the Irishman must have seen how much the act meant and it was enough to make him leave. Brendan could never stand his weakness.

Ste breathes heavily, refusing the tears; he's stronger than that now, right? Time has made him stronger so now he could give Brendan what he desires and only what he desires. Especially now, when he needs it more than ever before.

Ste watches Brendan grab his jacket and knows immediately where the older man is going. He doesn't need the words to know who Brendan is seeking - Walker, the man who would clearly give him everything in lust and nothing more.

"I gotta go to the cl-" Brendan starts to say but his voice is drowned out by hotter words.

"Do you remember our last time here?"

They are the panicked words of a foolish boy, and as Ste eyes the sofa he immediately regrets them - only one sight is to be found there now. But he is not going to let Brendan leave him, and his eyes find solace against the wall, where they had started off that evening.

"What?"

"It was good." Ste's raised eyebrow and pursed lips say that description is an understatement.

His voice shakes with nerves as the images continue. But if his advances were to be met by Brendan's rage he'd take it. At least in the moment Brendan was hitting him, he wouldn't be hating himself.

"God the way you kissed me, and then when you…hmmmm." Ste's words fade into that image of Brendan's lips stretched around his cock - promised words lingering in passionate actions.

"You were good at that."

Brendan stares wide-eyed at the boy. His body paused in the lust he is fighting. He'd had to convince the boy to say things like this during the act itself - when desperation led to wet vowels and harsh moans. And now this? Ste standing against his door, shirt ripped, hoody eyes, kiss-burned lips, painting darkened heady images. Brendan feels the licentious sight call to him, try to claim him. But there's a change in Ste that he doesn't like. A change that tells him that this would only ever be sex now; a change that says he'd irrevocably damaged the perfection of them.

"I thought my mind was going to explode." Ste's blue gaze drifts to Brendan, and for one split second in time he's caught like a rabbit in headlights. Fucking sexy headlights. "And then when you finally fucked me, I thought I was going to pass out."

"What are you doing?"

Ste ignores the small shake of Brendan's head, the furrow in his brow, choosing instead to picture their climax, the last time they were completely aligned.

"You almost did!" Ste smiles, remembering the triumph of that look in those dark eyes.

"Stop it."

"Do you remember?"

"Stop. It." Brendan insists as he walks towards him, pushing Ste away from the door.

Despite Brendan's strength, Ste stands firm, and eventually all Brendan can do is let go. He is never going to hurt the boy again.

Ste feels an overwhelming sense of bliss as Brendan's hands drop from the door. He knows it's odd to feel happy that Brendan isn't hitting him. But it's the first sign that the older man would never again raise a finger in anger.

"Don't go to Walker." Brendan's eyes screw in confusion as he hears the request from the boy, when did he say he was going to do that?

"Stay here, you know it's good. And it doesn't have to mean a thing, I'll leave straight after."

"You think that's-"

"Use me instead."

"You think I want meaningless sex, with you?"

Ste tenses as the last two words, asked like that, run up his spine. They feel like rejection, they taste like heartbreak.

"I know you want me." Ste nods, forcing himself to remember the moments before - Brendan's body so responsive, that moan. Fuck, that moan.

Brendan pauses as he hears the boys voice travel through him. He closes his eyes for a second. If he let himself, he could read everything into those words, the way Ste had said them. He could see the hope that he'd longed for. He could believe that there was still a chance.

"That's not what I asked."

Ste's brow crumples adorably as Brendan watches his eyes whir over the question, trying to come to a conclusion that wasn't rejection, that wasn't…Walker?! As if he would, as if that man could replace what he was going to be giving up.

"Wha'?"

Ste's eyes are clear, there is no deception or mistruths. And Brendan knows he can do this. He can almost taste the sweet realisation that would be breathed from the boy's lips, as he hears the promise that he is only ever going to love one. Brendan can see the twilight-shine of those blue eyes, the look of before when it just took everything Ste was to get him to confess the depth of his fear – that he couldn't live without him. He can taste it, the all binding passion that would be released, but the immediate aftertaste is one of fault. He wasn't good enough for this. Ste needed happiness, deserved happiness, and that's not something he could give, he had never been told how. The one time he'd tried he'd ended up with a red letter. And anyway, if Ste stays he is going to be hurt, because that's just what happens to the people around him. If Ste stays, he couldn't help but show his weakness and break his code, and Ste would be hurt, or worse. And he couldn't stand that. That is what it would take to break the infamous Brendan Brady.

"Douglas." Brendan breathes eventually. Though the name shakes jealousy through him, it is better than the alternative. "You should go back to Douglas."

Ste can barely believe the words he is hearing. The name of the person he'd sworn to love doesn't register as he stands in the ripped deli shirt.

"You're really going to choose him, Walker I mean?"

Brendan's eyebrow rises. As if he had a choice, as if, if he did, his answer would be anything but Steven, over and over again.

There's a moment but no words come and Ste knows he has his answer.

"OK."

It's the sight of Ste's hand on the doorknob that gets Brendan to talk.

"I'm not going to Walker. This is fucking ridiculous." Brendan can barely contain his laugh and Ste pauses in confusion.

"This used to be all it took, a meaningless twenty minutes to give me enough high to get past anything. That's all I want. But it wouldn't be enough now. It could never be enough now, not now."

Brendan's fist makes contact with the wall. He wishes he could have forgone the times where Ste had showed him what it meant to truly give his body to somebody else, to truly…[I/] make love [/I]. And then he laughs as he realises that he mainly wishes that he could wish that, that he could hope for a time where he hadn't known that heart-repairing pleasure. Eventually his head rests against his fists as he prepares to give breath to his vulnerability.

"Now, it's gotta mean something. So it's gotta be with you."

But the words are so quiet Ste doesn't hear them.

"What?"

Brendan knows he will never say those words again, if Ste hasn't understood them then that's it for them, the end. And there's nothing but confusion in those blue eyes.

"Never mind. Just go will ye? Just go?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Really sorry I never posted the last bit of this, feels like ages ago now but I couldn't leave it unfinished so here it is. Thank you for all the lovely reviews :D**

"Never mind. Just go will ye? Just go?"

The boy is half way out of the door, half way into ending this once and for all, when one memory strikes him. Two weeks ago, street corner, he had just stopped Brendan from decking a reporter. Ste closes his eyes as he feels the spark when Brendan looked at him like that and said those words,

"_I just wish-"_

The sentence hadn't finished, it could have been anything. Just like the words Brendan had whispered into his fists a minute ago. But that 'could have' was not something Ste could pass up.

"What were you going to say?"

As the boy refuses to leave, Brendan turns and walks away, needing distance between them, needing to stop his mind clogging with thoughts of them.

"The other week, before I looked after Cheryl for ya'-" Ste pushes, "you wish…something. What was it?"

Brendan smirks, he's just confessed his soul and Ste's stuck in a minute from the past, what could it possibly matter?

"You know what. Stephen."

The tension in Brendan's shoulders and the tone of his voice is filled with promises, and Ste breathes a sigh of realisation. Perhaps Brendan hadn't pulled away from the kiss because he'd given him too much, perhaps he'd given him too little. In Brendan's posture, Ste gains assurance, the confidence he needs to know that this could last, that sparkling faith in them. He closes the door.

"What if it was a mistake?"

Brendan exhales as the power of that question captures him; the shut door ensnaring him.

"What?"

"What if it was wrong, the letter, what if I made a mistake?"

In the kitchen, Brendan's fingers grip the draining board, knuckles white. He could let himself believe this. He could so easily let himself believe that Ste still wants him for him, and not just to help. But then what? How long would it last this time? How long would it be before he did something to fuck it up and he couldn't look at himself in the mirror again? No, if there was anything that Lindsey had tried to teach him, it was that life was for happiness. So Ste was better off with Doug. And he had to come to terms with that, anything else would only ever hurt him more.

"You didn't."

"What?"

"The words in that letter were true, Stephen. So they couldn't have been a mistake."

Ste barely pretends to listen to Brendan's words; he can see in the arch of his back that they aren't the truth.

"What if what I was really gonna say was I forgive you?" He says as each word brings him closer to Brendan. "What if what I was really gonna say was I know you've changed, and I forgive you."

Brendan looks up at Ste as he stands within reaching distance again, offering the perfect dream.

"What if what I was really gonna say was I lo-"

"Don't." Brendan pleads, once again stronger than he gives himself credit for. But he isn't sure how long he can keep pushing the boy away, when all he really wants is to have him in his arms. How much fight can one guy have, when all he is fighting is everything he wants?

"You gotta go Ste."

But Ste knows that the strength of Brendan's fight only means one thing; he knows it means he loves him. He steps closer, so he's in his air, so he can taste him - the scent of Brendan's cologne, and the whisky, and that intoxicating scent that is only ever him. The only scent that could immediately pummel to his cock, and lick those flames of desire, like his body is programmed purely for him. Ste lets his eyes roam over the man, he sighs as he sees the malnourishment of grief and neglect. He can see the way the business suit is used to mask the vulnerability he hides. He can see that this moment right now, is when he needs him the most. He knows he will always be here. The next words come strong and slow.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta."

"No."

Ste grabs Brendan's shirt collar, seizing a kiss. The pinpricks of that moustache against his lips promise him this is right. He kisses him with every inch of his heart, knowing now, more than ever that it would always be with the Irishman.

"Stop it."

It takes all that Brendan is to pull away. He knows that without distance he will end up back in the fire again, so he moves to the staircase fighting for control.

In the distance, Ste shakes his head at the futility of that letter - he knew when he wrote it that it wouldn't last long. As he confesses, he barely manages to control the tremble in his voice.

"It hasn't been right for a while…with Doug." Brendan closes his eyes, the boy's voice vulnerable. This is the real Ste, not the one who stood against his door with only one thing on his mind a few minutes earlier, but the one who knows his love can get him hurt, but stays anyway. This is the Ste who took his heart and won't let it go.

"I guess it hasn't been right since we…heard," but if this is about Lindsey…

"To be honest I don't think it's really been right since I went back to him. We both knew it. That's why when I asked him to leave last night, we both knew I didn't just mean for the night, and he didn't resist."

There's a silence that Ste thinks could choke him. Now he's fully exposed, he doesn't know how he will cope if Brendan tells him he doesn't want him, that his words are pointless. It's not that he couldn't handle the man's rejection, Lord knows he's had enough of that, it's that he can't take being pushed away when he can see the truth clear in Brendan's eyes. He can't take the lies, because they're a sign that Brendan still doesn't trust him.

But as Brendan turns to him he knows he doesn't need to breathe. He doesn't know what word added the final tie, whether it was the fact he was free, or that he had never been able to stop thinking of Brendan, or that it was just that Brendan had won. He just knows in the shade of Brendan's eyes that this will be perfection. The determination in those gaze, the power in that posture, he knows each step he makes is bringing him back to them.

As Brendan stands close, he breathes deep, "Stephen, is that the truth?"

Ste's little nod, and a small smile, Brendan's heart thuds.

There's a moment where Ste's mind flickers to Doug in sadness of what could have been, but as he stands in the Irishman's heat, he knows whatever he had with the other was only ever built on the remains of Brendan Brady. "It was never going to work was it, with you around?"

Brendan can only nod, his mind struggling to come up with a witty one liner, when all he can sense is Stephen, his Stephen. He knows if he speaks the only things he could annunciate were words neither of them were ready for. So he just steps closer.

In the third kiss they meet half way. It's not Brendan pushing his boy against their lust. It's not Ste tearing at his man's resistance. It's the slow kiss of partners; it's the kiss of a future that could last.

It's only their lips connecting and reconnecting, closed mouthed, their bodies a distance apart. It's only their mouths saying all the things their words would only fail to. The kiss is controlled as slow, almost motionless. But Brendan's fists shake for the need to touch, and he presses his hands on the draining board either side of Ste.

Brendan can taste Ste's resolve as the kiss stays steady. The movements of Ste's mouth promises that he knows all the possible futures that Brendan could worry about, and is prepared for every one.

With the end of the kiss their foreheads press together, sharing the same breath.

Opening finally, Brendan's eyes roam over Ste's face, absorbing the flawlessness, as the boy keeps his eyes closed. He is so beautiful. Brendan wants nothing more than this moment, right now, watching Ste recover from the power of their kiss, his lips pressed together so he can cling on to every moment. But Brendan shakes his head as he pulls away, Ste could be as certain as he wanted that this was all he couldn't live without, there were still things he didn't know.

"You gotta go, you gotta get as far away from me as you can."

Ste's gaze flickers between Brendan's arms, locking him against the draining board and his eyes sparkle, there's no way out of the embrace.

"There's nowhere to go!" He jokes, but as Brendan's eyes drop from his, he can hear the seriousness in the request.

"Even if there was though…I wouldn't, not again," he promises.

Ste hates the doubt he can still feel reverberate through the man, he'd hoped his kiss had been strong enough to rid it all. He runs a hand over Brendan's cheek, comforting. A sad sigh leaves Ste's lips as he sees Brendan's soul in tatters, what would it take to truly fix him?

"Don't let me do this to you." The words are a whisper.

"Do what?"

Brendan grabs Ste's hand, forcing him to listen, "the people close to me, they get hurt."

"Bren y'can't blame yourself for what happened to Lindsey."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Really?!" Ste jokes, pulling a smile on Brendan's lips. "Come on this is me, right? This is us. I know everything there is to know about you, same as you know everything there is to know about me. Because we can without saying it, remember?"

Ste searches for a flicker of recollection in Brendan's grey world, scared that his past actions have caused Brendan too much doubt. What if they were to stay forever in irreparable love?

"And anyway though," he sighs as he feels himself giving up, his touch dropping and gaze drifting to the floor. "It might not be anything to do with you, they think it's Will right? And Sylas?"

With a thumb against his chin, Brendan lifts Ste's face to his, needing the power of his gaze.

"You don't believe a word of that, and it wasn't just Lindsey. They took Joel too."

"Joel's fine."

"Because I got there in time, because they gave us warning. What if they don't with you? What if they take you too?"

Brendan's tastes the sad exhale breathed from Ste's lips and he knows it is the sigh of goodbye. He knows Ste will contemplate a future where he doesn't know security, what that would mean to Amy and the kids. He knows he will realise he has to give this up because he couldn't protect him. Because Brendan Brady can't protect anybody.

But all Ste is doing is wondering how he never knew Brendan was this broken. The man had no idea who he was. In the past, there were times when Ste was with him, they were alone, and Brendan was natural, that he filled Ste's heart with pure bliss. And when Ste had slept in his arms he felt the most protected he'd ever been. He wonders how Brendan doesn't know that; or know that all he is ever going to want to do is kiss him, and fix him and love him. His fingers clasp Brendan's as he speaks.

"So what if they do though? I can look after myself. But I can't…do…other things."

His sentence trails off, and he hates that he doesn't have the strength to say the words. The words that are so strong in his heart, but his tongue refuses to speak. It's when their gazes meet that Ste knows he needs to know Brendan's heart is open before he can say he loves him; he will wait forever to bring them back there.

"Like what?" Brendan breathes with a slow slight pull in the corner of his lips and that teasing spark in his eyes.

"Like leave again."

The answer is quick and determined, and Brendan can read the resolve of each word. He knows there is nothing he could do to stop the boy from waiting. He knows that there is nothing he wants more than for Ste to stay. It's been too dark without him. He admits it now. With the boy's eyes so honest and pure, he can let himself realise that since the hug he hasn't been able to stop clinging on. He knows the only way out of this pain is with him.

"Don't leave," Brendan's whisper skitters over Ste's heart.

Ste's head shakes and with their gaze unrelenting their bodies move in mirrored synchrony.

A step from Brendan heaves an inhale, and the boy's scent dances on the tip of his tongue.

Ste takes another step closer, his eyes drifting slowly across the taller man's jaw. He moves his hand to map the stubble, feel the pinpricks that pierce his lust.

For an equalled move, Brendan's hand wraps Ste closer. He pulls the boy's lithe body snug towards him, and with their bodies tight he can feel each muscle dip with desire.

To Ste it feels like Brendan has wrapped him entirely. His entire being throbs as Brendan grabs at his arse and moves his belt down to play with the skin at the base of his back. Impulsively he arches his hips for more.

There is nothing that feels better than their embrace, so desperation clogs Brendan's every thought. Instinctively he pushes them backward, but with Ste's feet off balance, they collapse to the floor.

"Shit, are you OK?"

The wind is drawn from Ste's lips, as Brendan falls square on top of him. But as he sees the unease in Brendan's eyes and hears the worry in his tone, he can't help but laugh. The sound of the boys laugh draws Brendan's, and Ste beams as he hears that sound he thought was long forgotten - happy, relaxed Brendan. Ste marvels at the man above him, the way his laugh seems to carry in his eyes, lighting the grey with beauty.

Brendan moves to arch around him, his thighs either side of Ste's hips and his arms on the floor either side of his head. Ste bites his lip as he feels Brendan's groin settle over his own. On instinct his eyes flicker down to the delectable bulge in the black cotton. Memories burn through him, tying a knot of anticipation somewhere deep inside. No other body has ever fit so perfectly over or within him. He will never belong to any other.

Brendan's shirt is rucked up from the fall, and quickly Ste's eyes drink the exposed skin. His hands tremble to remove the shirt, knowing the feel, the taste, the smell of Brendan. Knowing how to make him writhe, and cry, and beg, knowing the sound of those clipped Irish tones as he does. Knowing how every single sense of Brendan binds him in lust.

So his mind is lost in desire as he feels the trace of a finger against his abdomen. The ripped shirt gives Brendan free access and he can't help the arch of his back, or the heavy breath the single touch releases. There are so many memories in the single finger movement.

His gaze takes in Brendan's face, and as he sees that bottom lip bitten slightly he knows the man is shaking the same lust. Brendan's eyes meet his, pinning him to the floor, making him feel so exposed, so controlled, licking those flames of desire around him. In the pull of the man's lips he sees a memory, Brendan pinning him to the floor and waiting for a kiss, for submission. The first kiss.

"Here we are again then, back to the beginning," Ste exhales in heavy desirous breaths.

But Ste can feel the strain of Brendan's cock against him and realisation floods calmly through him. He is different from the naive boy who collapsed so easily under this older man's power. He still feels owned by Brendan but in a different way. He is owned because he wants to be, he is taken because he is giving himself freely, and he is doing this because he knows Brendan is just as much his. He knows they belong to each other.

"No, never the beginning, Stephen."

"Things are different, right?"

The smile on Ste's lips tells Brendan that he knows the meaning behind the words. Brendan knows he should tell him that before that first kiss he didn't know what it meant to need another, to belong to them, to trust them with his heart. Someday he hopes he can ensure the boy understands. One day he will tell Ste that that kiss and everything that came after had changed him completely. Before then, he didn't know what it meant to be in love, and to feel it with every inch of his heart. And there is no way he would ever go back. He will say all that, one day, but right now, with desire binding them so tightly, a nod and a smile would have to be enough.

"Prove it."

Brendan laughs as he hears the dare in the boy's voice, "how?"

"This time, make the kiss last."


End file.
